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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26812270">I'll Have Your Heart (and eat it too)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mothwood/pseuds/Mothwood'>Mothwood</a>, <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Plouton/pseuds/Plouton'>Plouton</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Bleach</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Hollow instincts, Hollows eat souls, Ichigo - Freeform, Ichigo likes the sex but not.... you know... the........., M/M, Offscreen character death, Panic Attacks, Surprise! Grimm's a cannibal!, Trans Ichigo, Trans Ichigo Kurosaki, Trans Male Character, Vore, Yandere Grimmjow, character death before story, emotional distress, grimmjow - Freeform, hollow behaviors, in a room full of fire: this is fine, on fire: THIS IS NOT FINE. WHAT THE FUCK</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 09:07:57</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,185</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26812270</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mothwood/pseuds/Mothwood, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Plouton/pseuds/Plouton</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Hollow love is neither unconditional nor bloodless, but it is unyielding. It is forever.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Grimmjow Jaegerjaques/Kurosaki Ichigo</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>96</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>I'll Have Your Heart (and eat it too)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">


        <li>
            Inspired by

            <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24065032">You're in front of me, always in my sight</a> by <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mothwood/pseuds/Mothwood">Mothwood</a>, <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Plouton/pseuds/Plouton">Plouton</a>.
        </li>

    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This can be read independently or as a continuation of You're in front of me, always in my sight - if Grimmjow had been a mouthful faster.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Ichigo wakes to water dripping down onto his cheek. </p><p>He opens his eyes, slowly, feeling stiff and sluggish, lashes sticking together, gummy like he's been crying for hours on end, but he doesn't remember it at all. His body is <em> heavy</em>, lingering cramps and seizing in his muscles, a mix of laying still for <em> too long </em>and moving too much. All at once. </p><p>
  <em> What was I doing? </em>
</p><p>When he sits up he's surrounded by- lush, colourful plant life, humid air in his lungs. The trees are infinitely tall, towering far into the sky above him. </p><p>There's not a sound around him, not of leaves rustling in the breeze, not of distant birds or wildlife. It is still, and silent, apart from the slow droop of one large flat leaf, heavy with the evidence of past rain, the source of the constant fall of liquid onto his skin. </p><p>For a second he had thought someone was crying over him. </p><p>He has never been somewhere so <em> green</em>, so <em> lonely </em> in his life. Bright and living things ranging from ankle height to well over his head with wide draping tendril leaves, flowers in neon colours, but there’s not a single <em> person </em> around for what feels like <em> miles</em>, no one coming to find him and take him home, back to somewhere safe and familiar.</p><p>He reaches for Zangetsu's hilt and startles when he doesn't find it- but the heavy presence of the two souls in his head are still there, suspiciously <em> silent</em>, but they're a source of reassurance nonetheless. </p><p>He picks himself up, slowly, and he can feel eyes on him, low and dangerous; it reminds him somewhat of the sensation of Yoruichi's cat eyes judging him, trying to ascertain his worth (<em>she found him lacking but he proved her wrong</em>). He bares his teeth instinctively and something flutters at the edges of his mind with <em> amusement </em> and the foliage rustles, something <em> large and lithe </em>moving away from him through the undergrowth. At home, in the heat and silence. </p><p>He hesitates, and then follows (<em>her</em>, but he doesn't know how he <em> knows </em> that it's a <em> she</em>), slowly, curious. It feels--this whole place feels <em> unreal</em>, a light source he can't identify at all, no sky that he can see, like it's somehow beyond the limits of his vision and his mind to perceive. </p><p>
  <em> -keep him, Queen for me, King of the jungle, and kiss him whenever I want to.  </em></p><p>Ichigo startles, jumps away from where the deep, vibrant red flower brushed against his bare skin, each petal the size of his palm, not any species he begins to recognise. </p><p>Was that--<em> Grimmjow's voice </em> ? His fingers twitch, curl slightly, his heart is <em> pounding </em> in the oddest way, fear and exhilaration and slow dread. </p><p>He reaches out, hesitantly, touches the pads of his fingers to the flower again-</p><p><em> I'll eat him, he said he loves me, don't you love me Ich-i-go? I'll eat him and it'll be- I can keep him inside me </em> <b> <em>forever</em> </b> <em>, have him and kiss him and he will be mine. His heart will fill me. </em> <b> <em>My</em> </b> <em> Ichigo.  </em></p><p>He lurches backwards with a low gasp, shocks and tremors passing up his arm, into his shoulder, heart rabbiting against his ribs like it wants to come all the way out of his body. </p><p>
  <em> He knows where he is and he knows what happened.  </em></p><p>He wails, abrupt, pain straight from hell pulled through his lungs and translated into sound that rings through the trees and waist high plants, endless, no matter which way he walks he will not find an end to the rainforest, he will not find another living thing except- except Grimmjow, and <em> Pantera</em>, he's <em> sure it was her he felt, that moved the green behind her, shifting in her wake</em>, an endless feline pressure. </p><p>He remembers how Grimmjow tears apart his hollows, <em> I like the liver, but you're--delicate, </em> wonders if he has <em> blocked </em> how he died, if he was still alive when Grimmjow tore him open and ate him warm and wet, still <em> steaming</em>, his insides juicy fresh. </p><p><em> Just to kiss him</em>. It's a sickening realisation; what <em> hollow love really entails, </em> he looks down and clutches his head between his hands, knees shaking, his spine bowing slightly. Is Zangetsu even real anymore? Have all three of them been compressed, back into one being? Why is he <em> here </em> instead of wherever every single other soul Grimmjow has eaten is stored and kept- or <em> frayed into nothingness</em>, he doesn't know--what happens when you're <em> consumed</em>, this <em> isn't love</em>. </p><p>
  <em> It feels like love, he wants to keep you. Wanted to keep you inside him so close and safe. Forever. Never lose you.  </em></p><p>
  <em> Take away my freedom what am I? If I cannot protect, only be protected? What am I? What am I now? Is Ichigo even real? Am I just memories? Am I still alive in any sense of the word? What if I'm just an amalgamation acting on what Grimmjow thinks Kurosaki Ichigo would feel and how he would react? </em>
</p><p><b> <em>What am I who am I where's Grimmjow I'll make him pay. I'll make him pay. If he slips up even for a second I'll take it, take it all, raise skyscrapers through his rainforest, turn his jungle paradise into a drowned city and he can watch me from the water and breathe in salt forever.</em> </b> <b>  </b></p><p>"<b><em>Grimmjow</em> </b> <em> !</em>" He howls, up at the canopy. Hopes the arrancar can hear him, will <em> hear him </em> and his <b>rage</b> and fear and <em> despair</em>. </p><p>(<em>Ichigo never should have loved at all.) </em></p><p>"<b>I'll kill you!</b>" His voice is a great and terrible maelstrom of all his emotions, if only he'd <em> known </em> how this would have ended, what Grimmjow would <em> do to him</em>, he would have killed him, would not have hesitated (<em>that's a lie. He couldn't, would never. Stupid weak little human heart.</em>)</p><p>His legs give out abruptly, and he realises he's shaking apart at the seams. His whole body is trembling, rage and shock, oh; the <em> shock </em> is setting in. Like bloodloss, a creeping removal of physical sensation, fingers going numb. His knees hit the ground hard, creating little divots in the rich earth beneath him. </p><p><em>I'd rather be eaten, </em>a memory of his own voice, and he remembers Grimmjow's rage at the statement. He understands now. <em>He wishes he was </em><b><em>just</em></b> <b><em>dead</em></b><em>. </em></p><p>It feels like he spends <em> days </em> alone, doesn’t stop walking until exhaustion (false, not real, he doesn’t have a real body) brings him down til he’s laying flat, crushing plants underneath him. He stops crying, starts feeling empty instead. </p><p>He’s never going to see his sisters again. There’s so many things he wanted to do (<em>with Grimmjow, what a fucking idiot, he’s so stupid</em>) he wanted to travel, wanted to see his friends start families, wanted to be there when Rukia and Renji finally admitted they were very much meant for each other (he wanted to rub their faces in it and crow with laughter) he wanted to go to college, gently torment Uryuu into going into fashion and design like he <em> so obviously wants to</em>, wanted- he wanted. He <em> wanted. He </em> <b> <em>wants those things still. </em> </b></p><p>He will <em> never </em> have these things. He will never, ever see his hollow or his zanpakuto again. Zangetsu is <em> gone</em>, Shiro is <em> gone</em>. The things that made them so unique, the personality and drive and aspects of their behaviours--erased. Unnecessary. Their power remains, he feels no physical absence. But <em> the emotional loss</em> is so great <em>. </em>He feels <em> hollowed out,</em> messy jagged edges where cruel fingers dug in and <em> tore away</em> chunks of his identity. </p><p>Maybe they're just- outside of him. Maybe they're trapped in the jungle too! He can, he can still <em> find them</em>. </p><p>(He isn’t gone, he <em> wants to be gone</em>. He’s never wanted to die so badly, not in the permanent way, but right now he craves it. Please, just <em> let him die</em>, get him out of here. Oblivion would be better. Anything would be better than this.)</p><p>“Ichigo!” Grimmjow spots the orange hair through the underbrush - brighter than any of the flowers, even the ones that bloomed along the lakeside, sunbursts of orange lily-like petals, when he first met the shinigami - “Ichigo, you’re <em> here</em>, I’m so happy!” </p><p>Ecstatic even. And he has no qualms about telling Ichigo that, after all, he’s a part of him now. Ichigo knows what the soft mist of rain and the hundreds of sparkling droplets refracting the light into rainbows and glitter means.</p><p>Ichigo rolls up onto his feet and stands, stares at- he just <em> stares</em>, another <em> person- </em> he hasn’t seen someone, <em> anyone </em> in so long. He almost manages a sob, his heart rising into his throat and then dropping again even quicker, taking all his hope and rabid glee and pulling it down into the abyss of his gut, making his head spin with nausea and fear.<br/>
<br/>
“Grimmjow?” He breathes, disbelieving, he’s never even <em> imagined </em> a smile like that (<em>so kind, genuine, no malice or anger or rage,</em>) on Grimmjow’s face, which is- it’s <em> gentle</em>, blue eyes soft and warm, that sharp jaw but cheeks <em> rounder</em>, younger. His hair is blonde.</p><p>Grimmjow slips dangerously elegantly - every bit of that unnatural hunter's grace coating his movements -  over the last of the foliage to reach him, arms already open so he can wrap his Ichigo in a hug. He presses a kiss to the boy's cheek and then to his throat, before hiding his smile in the junction between neck and shoulder. His arms wrap tight and strong around Ichigo’s skinny self. </p><p>There’s already a purr in his throat, “Hello, I-chi-go! I love you.” He says, as easily as breathing, a statement of fact. Like he could not even <em> imagine </em> a world where that is not true. "Pantera told me you were awake, how are you feeling? Good right? I’ll take good care of you now that you’re here.”</p><p>A little sound escapes Ichigo, arms bent slightly out from his body to accommodate Grimmjow’s grip on him, <em> it’s such a nice hug and he thought he’d never be touched or seen again by anyone, </em> he almost <em> melts </em> into it with another small noise. Disbelief, desperation, a tiny amount of gratitude, that Grimmjow came in to see him, didn’t just leave him here alone.<br/>
<br/>
“Good?” He asks, his mouth feels numb. Ichigo drops his forehead, skin meeting textured blonde hair, Grimmjow is <em> holding him so close. </em> He can’t even begin to imagine this, on his own, with blue hair and a jawbone mask digging into his skin. This is so <em> gentle. </em></p><p>“No, I’m not feeling good.” His voice is horribly empty, he still feels the gaping maw in his chest where all his fragile split-second optimism went to die. He digs his fingers into the fabric of Grimmjow’s clothing <em> anyway</em>, a deathgrip to keep him there.</p><p>Grimmjow glances up, confusion and concern on his features, “What? Are you okay?” His hands feel across Ichigo’s back, then release him to cradle Ichigo’s face between his palms, carefully maneuvering his head to search for any imperfections. Of course, he wouldn’t find any, his Ichigo <em> is perfection</em>. </p><p>“Gosh you’re beautiful”, he is distracted by the warm and full feeling in his chest, and the clearing around them blooms into colour, vivid bursts of white and red and pink swelling under the force of his emotion. A forest sized bouquet for Ichigo.</p><p>“Did something turn out wrong?”</p><p>Ichigo’s lips part but his teeth grit together before he can speak- jaw clenching even as he near <em> shoves </em> his face into Grimmjow’s hands, eyes closing tightly and more tears (<em>he thought he’d run out of them</em>) beading at the corners. Fuck, fuck he shouldn’t want to be held by Grimmjow so <em> badly</em>, feels so ill with the mixed messages he’s sending himself. </p><p>He takes a deep, shaky breath, then another, turns his face and brushes his closed mouth over one of Grimmjow’s palms, instinctive, <em> natural</em>. Speaks against his skin when his lungs have found a better rhythm again, not as likely to hyperventilate with rage and horror and all the misery he’s been packing into his very bones as soon as he touched that fucking flower and everything made <em> horrible sense </em> to him.<br/>
<br/>
“You <em> killed me.</em>”</p><p>Grimmjow blinks for a second then sighs, a relieved rush of noise from between blunt human teeth. He had thought something bad had happened, that somehow he didn’t put Kurosaki back together properly in his mind. But no, nothing of the sort. </p><p>He huffs a small laugh and squishes Ichigo’s cheeks gently, “You were <em> glorious</em>, you fought so beautifully. I <em> told you </em>it would be everything we could dream of.” </p><p>Ichigo doesn’t know what he expected, but it’s <em> not what he wanted to hear</em>, not at all. He wants to throw up. </p><p>He doesn’t have an <em> absence </em> in his head like he did when his powers were gone, when he lost them, but there’s a stillness, an endless silence, no Zangetsu, no Shiro. Nothing looking back at him when he peers in, no one there, no <em> King we are THE predator, </em>no paternal comfort to soothe his rough edges.</p><p>“What?” He’s breathing a little quicker again, eyes opening slowly, fingers starting to shake, tremors up his arms. A miniature earthquake in motion. “I don’t <em> remember </em> the fight. Where’s Zangetsu, Shiro? Did you take them? Are they here?” <em> Please please tell me they’re wandering the forest too, please, please don’t tell me you’ve taken them away forever. </em> </p><p>Hiccups, almost a sob, desperate. He wants to claw Grimmjow’s throat out. He already knows the answer.</p><p>“Zangetsu? He’s with you, I don’t know any 'Shiro' but if he’s yours then he’s still with you.” Grimmjow explains, “and don’t worry, your memory will come back, but I promise you were impressive. You’re so beautiful when you’re covered in my blood, you know that?” </p><p>Grimmjow leans down to press a chaste kiss to his lips, “Hey, it’ll be okay, I promise, you just need to adjust. I promise, I’ve got you.”</p><p>"Let me out," it's almost a whimper, weak, distressed, Ichigo’s head is so quiet and he just- he can't feel Zangetsu, not really, he doesn't have his sword, doesn't know how to pull claws from his reiatsu without Shiro guiding him, and he's too panicked to try. It's a stupid request. </p><p>He can't get out of here. He's dead. Eaten. Trapped forever. </p><p>"-I can't. No. You <em> ate me, </em> I don't want to remember <em>. </em>" </p><p>He reels backwards, away from the kiss, away from warm hands. His whole body shakes, he feels cold as soon as he steps away, half of him screaming to go <em> right back, that's where he belongs, he's Grimmjow's, Grimmjow loves him</em>. He feels fragmented, disjointed. He never would have felt like that before waking up here. Everything is wrong. </p><p>
  <em> Tell me this is a nightmare. (Tell me I was the best prey you've ever eaten.) </em>
</p><p>Confusion flickers over Grimmjow’s face and he takes a step after Ichigo, a soft yip falling from his lips, <em> it'sokay, </em>followed by “Ichigo? Ichigo, what’s wrong?”</p><p>Grimmjow doesn’t understand. This is supposed to be a happy reunion. They had their grand battle and it <em>was</em> <em>Grand</em>. Ichigo is beautiful, with his trailing suntouched hair, eyes narrowed with fierce resolve, obsidian sword enrapturing with it's every deadly swing. Grimmjow is so in love, so in love it aches and itches at the edges of his hole, shrunk smaller with every second Grimmjow spends licking Ichigo’s blood from his claws, with every smile and kiss and touch Ichigo blesses him with. </p><p>Ichigo is a gift made just for him, and he for Ichigo - literally if he is to believe Aizen. He was designed to be Ichigo’s perfect match. Designed to allow Ichigo to flourish, to grow strong and magnificent. </p><p>Ichigo is <em> his: </em> has <em> always </em> been his. His prey. His millstone. His fate was decreed by the Hogyoku itself. And now he has Ichigo, can fold him up in the jungle of his mind and keep him forever. </p><p>Ichigo crumbles, his resolve failing him as quickly as he found it and he sways, forwards again, back into Grimmjow, arms wrapping around him with bruising force, hands curled into fists pressing against the small of the blonde's back. Ichigo tucks his face into Grimmjow's chest with a mournful little gasp, something clicks in his hindbrain and he warbles, agonised and scared. <em> I'm so terrified I don't want to die I don't want to die, don't don't don't eat me. </em>But it's too late, it can't be undone. </p><p>This is Ichigo's own purgatory, lush and warm and damp, everything his own inner world never was, and he <em> hates </em>it (he loves it he can't help but love it he's a part of it he belongs here, isn't it so sweet that Grimmjow put him back together to keep and hold him?) hates the trees and the greenery and the drizzling rain shower that turns into delicate mist and soaks his clothing. </p><p>"I loved you," he gasps, eyes sticky-wet again, tears blocked from sliding down his cheeks from how hard he's pressing his face into Grimmjow, "-and you <em> betrayed me</em>." </p><p>That's what this is, it's betrayal. All encompassing and crushing, beyond any hope of forgiveness, the ultimate sin. </p><p>"You t-told me, you <em>told me never to be eaten </em> when I said I'd prefer it, you told me- I was <em> stupid </em> for saying it, never to say it again." He keens, low, a cry of <em> painpainmiserybrokenheart</em>, wants to sink his teeth into Grimmjow's skin and his fingers through the ribcage, crack him open and eat <em> his </em> heart, make him <em> pay</em>. </p><p><em> ('You ever say something pathetic like that again and I’ll eat you my fucking self' Grimmjow's voice, raspy angry decisive, Ichigo loves him so much in that moment- </em>) </p><p><em> (Teeth in his flesh, feels so good the best sort of pain, 'If you eat me I'll fuck up your inner world so bad' but he wants Grimmjow to bite him harder, everywhere, leave the prettiest jagged scars for Ichigo to skim his fingers over when he's alone- </em>) </p><p>"I'm dead, you've <em>killed me </em>and<em> eaten me </em>and remade what I was<em> all for yourself, </em>so<em> selfish, disgusting </em>how<em> could you? How COULD you? I trusted </em>you<em>, loved </em>you<em>, you've damned me to something worse than hell, </em>what use am I if I can't protect anyone because I'm <em>stuck in here, </em>no one can<em> see </em>or<em> hear me </em>but<em> you, you </em>wanted me<em> all to yourself </em>didn't you<em>? </em>Monster<em>, I hate you, I </em><b><em>hate</em></b> <b><em>you-</em></b>" </p><p><em> I love you, </em> the trilling chirp that hiccups out of his chest, interrupts his own words proclaims, <em> thank you I love you, you're keeping me in your heart! I love you, so much, I love you, </em> and he's disgusted with <em> himself, </em> now, too, that his instincts could even say something like that when he knows how he ended up here. There's nothing in Grimmjow <em> to </em> love and Ichigo was a blind fucking fool to think there <em> was </em> and to <em> fall </em> for him. He wrestles down the adoring purr in the back of his throat, decides he can't trust himself to speak at all, and tightens his grip on Grimmjow's clothing, the fabric crumpling under his fists as his knuckles go white with the pressure. </p><p>He tugs, abruptly, and his knees fail him again, sending him to the ground. He's vaguely, distantly aware that he's having trouble breathing. <em> Not that it matters. You aren't real anymore. You don't need to breathe. </em> He's hyperventilating, <em> you're going into shock, Ichigo, </em>someone says, distantly, he almost thinks it's Zangetsu before the memory swims more into focus and he recalls his father's solemn face. </p><p>He presses his face into Grimmjow's thigh, shaking and kneeling on the ground, now, arms stretched up and around Grimmjow, the fabric he can't let go of pulled dangerously taught, the muffled sound of it tearing under the force penetrating the haze around his senses. </p><p>Oh. </p><p>It's a <em> panic attack. </em> It's been- so very long since he had one, <em> truly </em>had one, not just an emotional breakdown. A bit of a cry and a depressive spiel, or a mope around the house? Sure. </p><p>He's never been particularly anxious. This is a PTSD response, probably. That's what the therapist he went to called them. No underlying anxiety disorder, just his brain trying to respond to trauma. </p><p><em> Thank god Grimmjow's inner world doesn't manifest as a school bathroom, </em> he thinks, a little absently, works his tongue in-between his gritted teeth and clamps down on it, blood filling his mouth behind his closed lips. Black spots spark at the corners of his vision, <em> maybe if I pass out he'll let me stay dormant. Maybe he'll bury me down deep like what Zan did to Shiro for a while there. Maybe I'll be able to just sleep forever.  </em></p><p>He should <em> be so lucky. </em> His life is a stepping stone path of miseries. This is just the latest (the <em> last one, </em>no coming back from this) in a series of them, really. </p><p>He keens, in the back of his throat, muffled by his closed mouth, can't see anything. Doesn't know if his eyes are closed or open anymore. It's a miserable sound, something broken and <em> end my suffering </em> begging mixed amongst it. <em> Fear, I am so afraid. I can't I can't I can't cope.  </em></p><p>Grimmjow watches for a long moment as Ichigo crumbles, uncertainty freezing him in place. <em> This isn’t how this is supposed to go. </em> Ichigo was supposed to see him and smile and press kisses to his lips with pretty words. He’s supposed to say ‘I Love you Grimmjow, thank you for keeping me here with you.’ Not this. Not <em> monster. </em> Not <em> I </em> <b> <em>hate</em> </b> <em> you.  </em></p><p>Grimmjow’s done it wrong somehow, he doesn’t know what, but he has. </p><p>He can feel it. The stake driving through his middle, ripping and tearing at his guts under his clothes. He can feel it <em> opening back up </em> <b> <em>again </em> </b>after he thought he filled it, the hole. </p><p>No. No.</p><p>No. </p><p>Ichigo wouldn’t lie to him. No. Ichigo loves him. He said so, he’s… he’s still saying so. Those stunning hollow noises Grimmjow coaxed him into speaking. Sounds not fit for shinigami understanding. </p><p>He drops to his knees, mindful of the way Ichigo clutches at him, grip tight like holding onto a lifeline, “Ichigo?” He whispers, hands hovering in the air above his shoulders for a moment before he slides them down and along Ichigo’s shoulders and back, pulling him into a hug. It’s not really a familiar gesture but it allows him to press Ichigo’s head right over his lungs. “Breathe for me,” he orders, “with me.” </p><p>He is the king of this world and he will be obeyed. When he breathes in a slow, calm breath, Ichigo mimics him, though the threats and wail doesn’t subside. Grimmjow could tell him to shut up, to stop complaining. </p><p>But he’s <em> scared</em>, and Ichigo doesn’t get scared, or if he does, Grimmjow has never seen him <em> admit </em> to being scared. </p><p>Should he say sorry? </p><p>No, he’s not. </p><p>This is the best idea Grimmjow has ever had, he’s not sorry at all. He wants Ichigo here with him. But he also wants Ichigo to want to be here with him. Grimmjow thought they were on the same page about this. They would fight, and fight and fight until one of them finally won, and whoever lost would get to join the other forever. (Some part of Grimmjow fully expected to be the one lying in a world as blue as Ichigo’s reiatsu before his release. They match. Ichigo’s never been much good at protecting himself though, so now Grimmjow’s won the honour of doing it for him.)</p><p>He runs soothing fingers through orange hair instead, and tucks his face against Ichigo and muffles the sounds of the jungle under a chest deep purr. <em> You're safe, I have you, you’ll be okay, we’ll be together.  </em></p><p>He’s not sorry. </p><p>“I… thought you wanted this too…” he says softly, barely a whisper, but his whole world shivers with uncertainty. Water droplets shake free of large leaves and the trees creak with the weight of a heavy burden. He cannot lie here, doesn’t know how. It’s his sanctum, his mind. He doesn’t need to be <em> hollow </em> here. </p><p>Here he isn’t the Sexta Espada. Never was. Aizen hasn’t been able to touch him here.</p><p>Pantera circles the pair in silence. A protective presence for Grimmjow, an underlying threat for Ichigo. </p><p>Ichigo breathing slows without much conscious input from his mind, his thoughts spinning wildly until it's just white noise in his head, and Ichigo feels <em> exhausted. </em> He's been so tightly wound, terrified, angry, for <em> so long now </em>that it feels incredibly good to get it all out and feel- something close to empty. </p><p>Grimmjow <em> purrs </em> at him and Ichigo can't help but purr right back, raspy and stuttery from his sore throat and still too-quick pulls of air into his chest, but he goes lax, his grip softens. Gentles. Instead of clawing (<em>at the source of his pain </em>) he just presses his fingers into his back, holding him close. </p><p>The bastard even <em> smells </em>comforting, that warm honey-sweet scent and something like the beach and bright sunshine, and he presses his face closer just to breathe him in and let it further settle his mind, calm his racing heart. </p><p>"You never <em> asked </em>me what I wanted." He mutters, so worn out. Just wants to curl into Grimmjow's arms and sleep forever. Wake up somewhere away from the jungle. Without the oppressive heat-energy of Pantera circling him. </p><p>“You <em> said </em> …” Grimmjow starts. Stops. Ichigo is human. He doesn’t <em> understand </em> hollow customs, words. Grimmjow forgets because of his mask, Ichigo makes it so easy to forget. He <em> constantly </em> tells Grimmjow that he’s not a shinigami, that he’s not just a human. But Grimmjow didn’t realize the limited extent of that until now. “You said you love me.” His purr doubles in volume, <em> don’t you see, Ichigo? “</em>You love me and now you’re a part of me. So I can keep you and protect you and hold you. Ichigo, I’m not doing this wrong, I know I’m not.” </p><p>It’s instinct. How can that be wrong?</p><p>Ichigo shudders, the purr encroaches on all his higher thinking, makes something he didn't have before <em> purr right back </em> and yearn and ache for Grimmjow to claim him further <em> as if that's possible, he's already eaten and consumed all that I am. Even my reiatsu is his.  </em></p><p>"N-no that's not. That's <em> not love. </em> Love is-" <em> Letting go of your sisters hands and letting them walk to school on their own for the first time, cheering at Karin's soccer match, all three of you curled up on the couch watching a movie, you'd do anything for them except smother them. They are free and growing and you get to watch it all and know you helped that. When they were weak you supported them, you'll always support them.  </em></p><p>
  <em> Love is the way Rukia digs her fist into your scalp and beats you up and never expects you to save her but never let's you forget that you're bonded now, thicker than water. You'd never eat her. </em>
</p><p><em> Love is a feral grin across Urahara's combat basement, swords meeting, rush of adrenaline but no fear, love is trusting that you won't ever go for the </em> <b> <em>kill </em> </b> <em> on me, I loved you, more than friend and family, would have given over my body for you to press inside and remake but not take me away from everything else that I love.  </em></p><p>
  <em> This isn't love.</em>
</p><p>He doesn't know how to say it all. He hopes maybe Grimmjow will <em> see it </em>if he thinks it hard enough, if he projects it into this inner world somehow. </p><p>“No.” Grimmjow says again for what feels like too many times today. </p><p>"I love you." Ichigo sighs, resigned, because he does, still. It's tainted, now, with the love <em> Grimmjow </em> feels, that aspect of himself Ichigo will never be cleaned of, never have removed from him. He's a part of the hollow now. There's no escaping that. But he still feels <em> his own </em> love, the one that made his heart feel like it had been dumped in fizzy drink when Grimmjow leaned over him on his bed, smug and radiating pride. The one that always kept him talking to the espada. The one that makes their fights feel <em> charged </em> and <em> tense </em>in such an interesting way. </p><p>Grimmjow is quiet and assessing for a long moment. </p><p>“But not the same way.” He acknowledges and something like fire sparks in the distance, hot and hurting, just a flicker now but threatening to burn the whole forest down if the wind shifts the wrong way. It doesn’t feel wrong though to have Ichigo here, so he pulls the boy closer, shifts him into his lap so he can curl around him possessive and protective. He wants to smother Ichigo in his warmth and his reiatsu and all of the bubbly fluffy feelings that grow in his abdomen whenever Ichigo looks at him.</p><p>“I’m really happy you’re here, Ichigo,” he presses a kiss to a golden crown, “You will be too.” <em> I promise, I promise I’ll make it beautiful for you. </em></p><p>Ichigo tucks himself up, drapes his legs over Grimmjow's thighs and presses his face into the crook of Grimmjow's neck and shoulder, moves his arms to drape loosely around his waist instead. His face still feels sticky with tears, but he's too tired to be bothered with wiping them away, doesn't care about how his lashes stick together, gummy. Maybe his eyes will seal shut. </p><p>"I wanted to spend my life with you either way. Just- not like this. Together, not <em> consumed. </em>" But really--can he blame him? </p><p>Can he truly blame Grimmjow? He did what he thought was right. He thought Ichigo wanted this too. And his love is <em> all encompassing </em> here in his inner world. Soft and reassuring. Like melting into warm blankets, feels like <em> home </em>even if the green surroundings jar him out of it a little. </p><p>"I love you. I love that you love me." He admits, slow, his mind is shutting down. He thinks he's about to fall asleep. </p><p>"I just… Wish you'd let me know. Before… It came to this."</p><p>He's so tired. Drained. Feels <em> safe warm, alpha has us, we are safe. Lovelovelove. </em>Surrounded. His consciousness slips sideways, and he scrabbles to cling to it, body shivering slightly as the shock really starts to wear off. Coming down.</p><p>Grimmjow drags fingers through <em> his </em> Ichigo’s beautiful hair, as carefully and meticulously as if he were playing with spun gold. Ichigo is a treasure. </p><p>Ichigo loses the fight with awareness. His perception of his surroundings fades out slow, inexorable. He doesn't know how long he was carrying himself forward through the jungle with sheer spite and fear along his spine. He's still <em> afraid</em>, but he's not spiteful anymore. The exhaustion outweighs it all. (And can he really blame a wolf for biting a rabbit?) </p><p>He falls asleep tucked as close as possible to Grimmjow.</p>
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